Like father, Like Son
by rebeck
Summary: This is set after Charge of this Post. How Flack's family might have reacted.


Like Father, Like Son

This is set after Charge of this Post. We never got to see Flack's parents and how they reacted to the event, so I thought I'd write something.

No one would ever describe Donald Flack Jr. was needy. His parents had raised him, his brothers and sister to be independent individuals and he had always found it easiest to rely on himself. Into his adult years his self-sufficient upbringing had provided for him many skills and traits essential for his chosen career path: NYPD Cop. However, right now as he lay in a hospital bed, connected to various machines with pain medications his only relief from the wound on his abdomen, he wished more than ever that someone would arrive to break the loneliness.

He had been "awake" for a day now, but according to his mother the explosion had happened 6 days ago. Apparently he had been in a coma for a few days after the surgery. She had been the first person he saw when he woke up. Her usually elegant and cheerful face was worn with stress and fatigue. Don concurred that she hadn't slept much since she had heard the news.

His brothers, Kevin and Kyle, had flown in from Vancouver and Denver respectively to visit their younger brother. The typical pranksters of the family, always with a line or a joke, had never appeared so solemn in their entire lives. Don had felt a twinge of guilt seeing them at his bedside, knowing the incident had interrupted their jobs and wives. That feeling could simply have been a jolt of pain from his chest though.

Unless Don had been asleep when he had come by (which was possible, he had slept through many of the past days), Donald Sr. hadn't visited. He would never admit it, but he wanted to see his father more than anyone else right now. He and his father had always been close- his older twin brothers had each other growing up, but Don had developed a strong bond with his namesake. His dad had introduced to all things NYPD: in short, he was the reason Don had joined the force.

As if on cue, Don Flack Sr. wandered onto the recovery wing. He looked around awkwardly, unsure of where to go. Flack watched from his bed as a nurse directed his father to his room. He smiled uncomfortably, almost like a grimace, as he entered the room.

"Hey Dad," Don spoke first. His voice was still rough and pained him slightly.

"Son," Flack Sr. replied as he approached the bedside. He scanned his son up and down, taking in account of his injuries and his prone figure. Despite the strong faced façade he wore, his eyes betrayed his emotion. Here was his boy, now a grown man but still "his boy", lying in the hospital after narrowly surviving an explosion. It was killing him to be in the room.

"Is this," Don asked as he carefully raised his bed.

"My first time here? Yes," his father finished. The change in Don's expression was visible. "It's not that I didn't want to come, kid. I care… a lot."

Silence filled the room as father and son stared at each other. The only audible sound was the rhythmic beeping of the multitude of machines and monitors.

"Seeing you graduate from the Police Academy, top of your class, was among the proudest moments of my life. But getting the call from your boss, telling me that my son had been in that explosion and had a gaping chest wound… was the worst moment in all my 31 years as a parent and my 35 years of service. My heart literally stopped beating for a minute, Don," his father responded.

In spite of their strong relationship, Jr. and Sr. spoke little of emotion. Donald Senior had never shared his feelings with his family, and he had preached to his 4 kids the importance of strength and attitude. They relied on assumptions, alone time and most heavily Maya, mother and wife respectively.

Don grinned, which turned into a laugh. A belly aching laugh that threatened to rip out the stitches that were holding his chest together.

"Oh god, kid, I'm so sorry. Now I wish I hadn't come, I'm so bad at this. I'll just get a nurse and leave," fumbled the father, leaning towards the door.

"No please, stay," Don begged. The laughter had subsided but his desire for company was still present.

Don Sr. looked intently at his middle child. Having interrogated suspects for so 3 decades, he had learned to read the human face brilliantly. Currently, he could tell that his youngest son desperately needed the companionship of someone other than a doctor. He pulled up a chair and sat down next to the bed.

"I'm not quitting," Don asserted.

"I don't want you to. I just never want to visit you in the hospital again," came the reply.

"Good opportunity for a family reunion though, huh?"

"Always with the sarcasm."


End file.
